


from the bottom of my heart

by tonyang (kurusui)



Category: PRISTIN (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, nu'est features, running.mp3 collection of drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11772303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurusui/pseuds/tonyang
Summary: When she gets the request to guide vocal, it’s through someone else, not him. / short piece collection





	1. one day i’ll stand beside you (sungyeon/jihoon)

**Author's Note:**

> ❊ this is based on what sungyeon said during [idols of asia](https://youtu.be/7SAS_7ClP_A?t=14m29s) (shout out to the comments) but like obviously it’s just an idea for fun, not an actual belief about what was meant by what she said. then there’s like her [statement](https://twitter.com/two_oh_teen/status/844516837366816768?lang=en) re: him when pristin debuted, and the whole downpour thing, etc, even i was surprised when i remembered everything?
> 
> ❊ i always feel the need to disclaim that when i write in universe (canon) fic that what i write is sometimes what i'd like to believe but sometimes just an idea, not an interpretation of real life
> 
> ❊ hopefully i can write a few of these short pieces because it’s kind of easier than the burden of these other fuller projects i have in progress

When she gets the request to guide vocal, it’s through someone else, not him. He tells Bumzu he needs a guide because the girls won’t know how to sing along to his voice. Bumzu asks him if he has other fears too and Jihoon snaps _no_ , this is all for very professional reasons. Bumzu refrains from pointing out that the preservation of his voice, his privacy in the face of private listening may as well be “professional” and instead asks who.

“Sungyeon,” he says, “has the most reliable voice.”

Jihoon doesn’t have Sungyeon’s number, but Bumzu does. Their messages are filled with back-and-forth about the debut album production, Bumzu asking for input, Sungyeon asking _ <is this a good idea?? i just thought of a good lyric... i want to practice arranging songs again> _. His texts with Jihoon are similar, but with a lot more banter, and Sungyeon is still an eager learner in comparison.

 _ <sungyeon-ah>_, Bumzu types, _ <jihoonie needs a guide vocal for this ioi song>_.

He slides the cellphone onto the desk and it lands neatly against his computer keyboard.

“Okay, well, if Sungyeon’s busy practicing, who-”

It’s twenty seconds after he sends the message that they hear the notification. Both heads turn towards the phone, and Bumzu picks it up.

“Oh, she’s already replied,” Bumzu says, looking at the screen curiously.

_ <now?> _

 

Sungyeon has this ideal type that she’s crafted in her head, one she’s prepared to tell people, but one that comes from the heart.

He’s musically talented, like her. Of course that makes sense, she loves ~drawing music~ and wants someone who can appreciate it, and a friend to talk to. Common interests are necessary in relationships. Common lines of work are even better.

He’s also hard working, ‘cause that’s an attractive trait and one that she basically needs in a guy, given what she’s had to go through to debut. It just doesn’t make sense for her to fall for someone who doesn’t have the same motivation to reach their goals.

And he’s cute because of course he’s cute. That doesn’t really need any explanation, except for that she’s not looking for someone tough or protective. Just someone who by being happy can make her happy.

Sungyeon wouldn’t say she modeled the ideal type after anyone particular she’s chasing after - she doesn’t have room for dating, obviously, not now. After all, working hard is a trait she values! There’s no time for side affections. And she wouldn’t point anyone out publicly, that would be a death sentence for their careers. Therefore, if anyone asks “is there someone”, she’ll say a resounding _no way_.

But -

No one said she couldn’t take good traits from someone that she admires and say, hey, if I could have everything in someone I loved, I would take these from you.

 

He literally runs into her in the hallway, months later. Sungyeon is focused on carrying two white chairs a staff member borrowed back to the practice room, while he’s delivering a carton of iced Americanos to the studio upstairs. He’s thinking of lyrics as he rounds the corner, itching to write them down somewhere tangible. When the swing of his hand coincides with the leg of a chair, Jihoon hears a loud clang and panics. Nonetheless, Sungyeon’s so perceptive that she catches the coffee almost before it falls out of his hands.

“Thank you so much,” he ends up saying, rather formally and straightforwardly.

She nods a few times quickly and picks the chairs back up from the floor. They’re stacked in such a way that to grip them properly Sungyeon has to shift her hands a few times, and Jihoon just stands in her path, awkwardly.

“Do you want me to carry that?” he asks. It’s kind of out of politeness but also out of a need to say anything, due to a guilt for being useless. He would do it, of course, if she wanted him to.

“No, it’s totally fine,” she says, maybe even floundering more when his voice breaks her concentration. “I’ve got it now! Thank you, have a good day!”

“Oh, ok, good work, you’ve done well,” he says, and it echoes against the walls. “Bye, Sungyeon.”

“Mhmm,” Sungyeon answers, a muffled response, and then he’s up the stairs, swinging the coffee again.

 

She stops in place and turns to look back. Jihoon’s gone as expected, but a ghost of his image still lingers in her imagination.

“That was so embarrassing,” she says quietly, and laughs.

“He’s the exact same as he always has been.”


	2. hesitation (jieqiong/minghao)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today. If we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made the relationships a bit ambiguous on purpose

Jieqiong stirs her bubble tea with a straw that’s too big - she didn’t actually get any pearls today.

“Dinner,” Minghao suggests from across the table. He’s playing some game on his phone, but she knows he’s listening.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she answers, picking her words slowly. “People are busy.” Choosing them carefully and with conservation. Like there’s a garden of flowers, but the bees are nestled in hiding. “I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today. If we go.”

Minghao opens his mouth, probably to question but not to provoke. Still, Jieqiong gets the last word.

“It’s not an excuse. And it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, a driver shows up at the company doorstep with styrofoam containers of Chinese food. The good stuff, which is naturally more expensive, but the taste of home is kind of priceless.

“I thought you would eat at home,” Jieqiong says, surprised. He’s pretty good at stealth phone calls, evidently.

“I wanted to eat out because I’m hungry now,” Minghao answers pointedly, taking out cash, but Jieqiong is pleased enough with the smell of the food and doesn’t argue more.

“Call Junhui,” she insists as she receives the plastic bags. “Let’s have a party.”

“Junhui’s busy today,” Minghao says, but he sends a text anyway. “You’re waiting for Eunwoo, right?”

“She had a lot of work to do today and I’m sure she doesn’t mind keeping me waiting.” Jieqiong taps her fingernails against the table impatiently as Minghao unwraps the food. He shakes his head.

“She came up to me the other day and asked me how her pronunciation of ‘wo hen piao liang’ was. Is that your fault? I really didn’t know what to say.”

“Ahahaha, classic Eunwoo.”

“Classic you, too, I would say. Or, you two. Haha.”

“That wasn’t funny.”

Minghao doesn’t reply because he’s busy eating.

 

In the early hours of the morning, Dispatch releases pictures of celebrities caught on a date the night before. 

Minghao frowns at the news and calls Jieqiong.

“You’re a psychic or something. I wanted to eat dinner there.”

“Kinda creepy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The food you ordered was really good though. How about tonight?”

“Jieqiong...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend the pun translates


	3. only looking to the sun (nayoung/seungcheol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the back of the Pledis building is an alleyway that eventually leads to a basketball court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey risa when will you stop twisting ideal types to fit your fake narratives (answer: never! and proud of it! leave me alone) also this is set around 2010-2011

At the back of the Pledis building is an alleyway that eventually leads to a basketball court. Once you walk the path enough times, you know which corners to turn to get there. No one really goes anymore because the maintenance is rather poor, but once there was a time Seventeen wasn’t headlining concerts across the world and Nu’est wasn’t the nation’s favorite revived-from-the-dead idol group. Now they can go to whatever indoor sports arena they want to, with their fancy shoes and whatever.

Once, they were just boys that wanted to have fun.

Dance practice is over and Nayoung holds a plastic bag of popsicles in her left hand. Jieqiong and Junghyun said they would go ahead.

“Buy me a cherry one please!” Junghyun says with an eyesmile, the most excited to go. It was her idea to watch the boys. They actually offer to let her play sometimes, casually for certain, but Junghyun always says it’s too hot to run. Nayoung really feels her young age then. Even Jieqiong is really enthusiastic and tails after the guys with no reservations.

When she steps out onto the asphalt, the game is already in full force and the girls are cheering from the sidelines. “Wooo! Go Minhyun oppa!” Jieqiong shouts as he tries for a shot and the ball skids off the rim. “Next time!”

It’s as good of a time as any to interject, Nayoung guesses. “Ice cream,” she shouts, though it’s kind of in her classic monotone.

“Oh, yay!” Junghyun says, fishing her cherry flavor out of the bag. “You’re the best, Nayoung unnie!”

“Of course.” She smiles to Junghyun. Jieqiong takes something too, and the weight on her wrist feels less. This is sort of worrisome. She opens the bag to count -

“Can I have one?”

Nayoung jerks her head up. “Yeah, of course.” Seungcheol reaches in and pulls out an ice cream sandwich.

“Wait, I want something else,” he protests, hovering, but Dongho pushes him aside. 

“Seungcheollie is sweating into the popsicle bag!” 

Nayoung puts her hand to her mouth. “Oh my goodness.” He really is. Junghyun looks disgusted, in a cute way. Then Seungcheol laughs and the other boys make fun of him, and Jihoon says sorry on his behalf.

“You scarred Nayoung noona,” he says, laughing and pointing at her face. Seungcheol, mortified, repeats apologies that she waves off.

“It’s fine,” she says, holding the bag out to Jonghyun and trying to stifle her own laughter.

 

In the end, she counted wrong. The last ice cream bar is taken by Minki and she’s left with an empty piece of plastic, so by way of atonement Dongho splits Seungcheol’s sandwich in half and gives the clean half to Nayoung. It comes out kind of messy anyway, but she’s just glad to get something cold.

The boys scarf down their ice cream in what seems like seconds, tossing the wrappers back in the plastic bag. Nayoung is still holding the torn paper encasing her ice cream when the game starts again.

“Who’s on what team?” she asks as she takes a bite of what’s left. 

“No idea!” Junghyun states.

“Dongho oppa, Minki oppa, Jihoon oppa,” Jieqiong recites. “And then the rest of them.”

“Oh, I see,” Nayoung says, although she has no idea what’s going on in the game and thus the information doesn’t help much. At all. “Thanks.”

“Minhyun’s on Seungcheol’s team to keep it balanced,” Minki jokes. It earns him a punch to the shoulder.

The summer sun sets slowly and Nayoung watches diligently, fascinated by the quick moves and maneuvering more than anything. And maybe the boys look kind of cool playing, but that’s secondary.

“Oh, shoot,” Minhyun says, glancing at his watch. “We have to go back to practice now.”

“Game’s over!” Jihoon shouts. The rest of them collect whatever belongings they tossed to the side and towel off.

“Did you have fun watching?” Jonghyun asks. Junghyun nods and wrinkles her nose. 

“You guys aren’t that good though.” Jonghyun about splits himself in two laughing.

The boys run ahead, leaving the girls to walk at their own pace. They make everything into a competition, so it’s better this way. Jieqiong asks if they have everything and it looks like they do, because everyone brought their own water bottles. Nayoung looks around the ground for the trash bag, but it’s already gone.

In the distance, the handle is twisted around Seungcheol’s fingers.


	4. vicarious (joshua/minhyun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol had to beg for permission to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after writing the last one i knew that i would be adding the nu’est tag to this collection. but rly this is such a non-burden because the word count doesn’t have to be high and the progression doesn’t have to be significant... once i get an idea it just falls off my fingertips in a few hours

“I’m going out now,” Seungcheol says, pulling on his coat, tying his shoes. The rest of the members are scattered around the dorm but later, they’ll all be in front of the tv.

“Bye,” Joshua says, twisting his sweating fingers together out of nervousness. He walks up to the doorway, close so he can say a better farewell. “Good luck,” he adds, though it doesn’t make much sense to say it to Seungcheol. But the situation is complicated enough that it could mean so many things. He gets the message.

“I’m gonna need it.”

-

Seungcheol had to beg for permission to go.

“You’ll be exhausted,” Jonghyun had told him over the phone, said it’s okay if he can’t be there, but Seungcheol insisted. As they all knew that he would.

“I have to go.” He pleads, and the CEO relents, and they pull some strings and then a few days later Seungcheol is on their screen, on the Mnet channel, standing surrounded by the distressed family members of trainees. It really isn’t much of a stretch to say he’s a part of them. His face is unreadable.

“For them,” he had said, referring to Dongho, Minki, Minhyun, Jonghyun. “For Samuel, too.” 

Jihoon clasps his hands tightly. “It’ll be okay.” His head is rational, it always has been, though his heart is filled with emotion.

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol says, but the soft voice comforts him all the same. “I don’t know how this is going to end.”

It doesn’t grip Joshua so tightly then, those feelings of desolation and heartache he comes to know. He wants the best too, but nothing hurts yet.

-

Some of the members go to sleep early because they have a long day tomorrow. No day during promotions is really short, anyways, but the hyungs wouldn’t beat them up for not staying up. Sitting through the announcements is more excruciating than finding out the next day without a doubt.

Jeonghan and Joshua have no plans to sleep. 

-

He can trace something back to over a year ago. Seventeen’s manager tells him first, that they’re gonna do a duet to promote  _ Overcome. _ It sounds like fun, Joshua thinks.

Minhyun meets him at the beginning of the week, when promotions are lesser, and they sit down to practice.

“Thanks for doing this,” Minhyun says, smiling weakly. 

“It’s totally no problem,” Joshua answers nonchalantly. “It’s cool that we get to do this, you know, sing together. I mean I like singing for fun with you too, but doing it officially is exciting.  _ Overcome _ is great, so.”

Minhyun sighs. “I’m glad you see it that way. Cause if I did it alone... I don’t think it would get much attention.”

Joshua looks at him, panic in his eyes, for not having been more sensitive to the meaning of words. But he can’t fight Minhyun on it, or say anything at all.

“Pick up your guitar,” Minhyun instructs. And like that, Joshua starts playing. As they go along Minhyun tries different adjustments to the vocals and Joshua arranges it differently. Trial by trial, until they make it match.

 

They run through it again and again.

“Jisoo, can you hear the birds outside?” Minhyun asks, laughing to fight off a yawn. He still does yawn anyway. The brightness of morning seeps through the glass window at the top of the basement wall. The sky is a rich, bright blue without the yellow of the sun. Still, Joshua doesn’t feel tired.

Minhyun’s face lines up with the light. Joshua is looking only by chance and thinks that in the split second he sees, it looks perfect. Nu’est’s self proclaimed visual. 

“They sound so happy,” he says.

-

Minhyun makes it and Seungkwan starts crying. Joshua can feel his shoulders lifting, breathing deeper. Minhyun’s mother is visibly moved. And it’s nice to see Nayoung up there, clapping for him too, overjoyed. At least he’s made it, at least he’ll achieve their dreams, no matter what... it’s him, and it’s Jonghyun, and if they’re lucky Dongho or Minki will slip into 11th. Nu’est will get the happiness they deserve.

They hold their breath, certainly, when the names are called, but the fear hasn’t set in, they keep leaving to get snacks or lie down in the rooms. 

He isn’t quite familiar enough with the remaining 13 to know how worried he should be.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” Joshua says. Jeonghan tells him to hurry up without even sparing a glance.

 

He falls asleep on the cold tile floor, against the wall. When he startles awake, he doesn’t even know what time it is.

On the way back to the living room he checks on the boys that are sleeping. It would be great to wake them up and tell them about Minhyun, but they might as well just wait for the rest of the members to be called. And if they’re woken up they probably won’t be able to get any rest that night.

Faintly, through the hallway, he can hear Seungkwan and Jihoon frantically whispering about something, the places that are left, maybe.

BoA’s voice says “Kim Jonghyun.”

Before Joshua has the chance to react, to wonder or to hope, Jeonghan screams. 

-

It feels like a nightmare. Minhyun looks like the life has been sucked out of him and trampled under the feet of everyone watching. And he won’t stop crying.

Secondhand sadness takes him in for real this time, and Joshua runs to his room.

-

Two hours later, when he wakes up to go to the salon, Joshua opens his eyes, faces reality, and starts sobbing. 

-

Joshua is folding his jacket absentmindedly in the waiting room of Inkigayo when Seungcheol passes him his cellphone without a word. “Um, hello?”

“Jisoo, hi.” It’s Minhyun. His voice sounds tired and choked up and sad. Oh, don’t start now, Joshua.

“Hi, yeah?” Joshua’s voice just cracked, for sure. And he doesn’t dare to say anything else.

Minhyun doesn’t comment on it. “Nothing happened,” he says, though that had to be the farthest thing from the truth at that moment. “I just wanted to talk to you guys. It’s been so long. And it’ll be a while longer.”

“You’ve gotta come back, before you leave,” Joshua says, “come to the Pledis building or something and see us.”

“Wanna take my place in Nu’est? Seventeen can afford it,” Minhyun jokes. “Your voice would be a good substitute. I’ll approve it.” 

“Things will be okay.” He says it partially to reassure himself, but Minhyun’s light laughing does half of the job. “I’m streaming _ Hello.” _

“They will be.” If he can sound this resolute, there is nothing to worry about. There are many things that could go wrong, but everything is promising. In the day and a half since what felt like the end of the world, things have already begun to look up. The flower path is in sight. And Minhyun is strong and capable and determined. 

“Gonna miss you, around here.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Minhyun says, and then Seungcheol is back and wordlessly asks if he can hand the phone to someone else. Joshua complies, says goodbye and looks at the crumpled jacket on his lap.

There was more he wanted to say.

_ Everyone is waiting for you. your members, loves, the general public, us. _

_ It’s only 1.5 more years. _


	5. night bus (minki/kyungwon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> isn't this your stop?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i imagined this set in 2015.

It’s 9:41pm. The night bus is silent, or at least the patrons are. The bus itself is an older model, so the metal flap on the left ceiling rattles every time they go over a bump in the road. Maybe it covers the heating unit, but Minki just wishes it would quiet down. It’s giving him a headache.

In the back of the bus, some of the seats face the center aisle, back to the wall. Minki likes sitting there because he doesn’t have to worry about people watching his phone screen. When the bus makes a stop, he looks up by chance. Someone else gets on that looks like him, baseball cap and black mask. Classic disguise material. Though Minki has to say the rest of his own outfit looks better.

They sit across from him. He looks, and his eyes stay trained on the figure, but he doesn’t want to say anything.

Finally, she speaks. “Hey.”

“Hi, Kyungwon,” Minki says. She kind of scrunches up her eyes, like she’s surprised he recognized her. Like she’s saying in her mind, why didn’t you say something first?

After a long time, Minki’s gotten pretty jaded. He can pretty much tell exactly what people are thinking when they speak to him about NU’EST, so he’s extended that to mindreading in general. But maybe it’s a little unfair of him to project that onto her.

“Where are you coming from?” Minki just has a bag of convenience store food leaning against his right thigh and his phone on him, as far as she can see. Doesn’t he look just like the average jobless twenty-something? He’d like to think so.

“I was hungry after schedules, and the rest of the guys went home,” he says. Minki doesn’t even bother to keep his voice down - there’s no way anyone will notice who he is.

“Oh, same,” Kyungwon says, even though nothing really is the same between the two of them. “Practice was off today, so I got burgers with my sister.” Yeah, definitely not the same.

“That sounds nice,” Minki tells her, genuinely. Well, he could do it too, if he wanted. It’s not as if he’s busy -

“But I have to go back to the company now,” she says. This isn’t exactly a thrilling statement, but she says it with such a mix of sadness and, of all things, boastfulness. It’s so oddly dramatic he has to ask.

“Why?”

“Nayoung unnie says we have to practice anyway. And Minkyung agreed with her, probably to make herself look better, so I couldn’t say no or  _ I’d _ be the only one that looked bad.” Minki gets it now. The practice is already paying itself back in the form of a story to tell.

Minki laughs. “It’s good to have a good work ethic,” he says. He was like that too - neither of them seems better or worse than the other when it comes to that.

 

 

“Hey, wait!” Kyungwon shouts to the driver. Minki’s confused - it’s too early for this to be the Pledis building. Kyungwon looks confused too, seeing him sitting squarely in his seat while she’s standing.

“Isn’t this your stop?” Minki looks outside. Oh.

“No, sorry,” Minki calls to the front, and the doors close. Kyungwon’s mouth is wide open. “Sorry,” he repeats to her, and she sits back down, shaking as the bus starts to move again. “This is where our dorms are, you’re right. How did you know?”

“Well, of course I know,” Kyungwon scoffs. “But where are you going? I thought you were going home?”

“I  _ was  _ going home,” Minki corrects her. “I’m following you to the company. I have to practice.”

Kyungwon grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know there are a lot of people who are good at sporadically putting out polished pieces but as much as id like that ideally, i'm not that kind of person.
> 
> i wrote this one in a half hour and then remembered i wanted to do some other stuff and i meant to come back and add to it but i just saw it and .. i don't want to add anymore lmao. though i think more could be said about this time period and what it meant to each of their groups. lately, i've been reading fics in different styles that i like and want to try out for myself - less dialogue based, with more use of structure and vague meanings, without revealing direct thoughts, more to be inferred. anyway, i didn't try that at all with this, but i remembered after i read it over and noticed it wasn't present here at all. i'd like to think that i've used a variety of styles in my writing, but it's pretty nice to have a specific goal to try out! maybe next time.


	6. madeleine (nayoung/minkyung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nayoung takes a bus to visit her.

Nayoung takes a bus to visit her.

The drive is very far. Nayoung buys the ticket with an anxious heart, taking her gloves off in line as she approaches the cashier, putting them back on to fight the biting cold. Minkyung bought these for her, the year she graduated high school. Nayoung was supposed to buy her and Kyungwon dinner at an expensive restaurant to celebrate, but Minkyung wanted to repay the favor early.

Everything was easier then, whether she believed it would be or not.

“Round trip,” Nayoung says when she is asked.

“Alright, that’ll be -”

“Wait.” Nayoung stares at the suitcase beside her. When she was packing she knew that she’d only be gone for two days, but somewhere in her mind, this possibility always existed, nagging at her.

“It’s the same price if you buy the ticket back separately,” the ticketer says helpfully. Nayoung thinks that if she comes to regret this, at least she has someone else to blame now.

Nayoung stuffs the receipt into her jacket pocket and heads to the seating area to wait.

 

It is very, very cold outside. Soonyoung told her she was crazy when he found out she was going.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” she says, the color drained from her voice. Everything about her shakes and he is rightfully worried.

“This is why I asked,” he argues. “You shouldn’t go alone. You know a lot of people in the area right now, hell, I’m around - although I’m too busy to go with you, but-”

Nayoung puts a hand on his trembling fingers. “I’m going to be fine.”

“You know I could tell the others,” Soonyoung says, but Nayoung shakes her head and swallows, and the fear shines in her eyes.

“I don’t know if what I’m doing is right or just rash.” He understands.

“Dress warmly, Nayoung.”

Nayoung leaves Soonyoung to his drawing, designing and arranging beautiful forms, ideas her hands could never put to the page.

  


The seats on the bus are comfortable. The bus doesn’t have much dirt in the cracks, so it seems to be relatively new. Nayoung is thankful.

The woman beside her is dressed professionally, wearing a jumpsuit and typing away on her laptop. Nayoung wonders what she’s doing here and not on a plane. _Aren’t you cold_ , she wonders, staring at her bare ankles. The businesswoman nudges Nayoung in the right side of her stomach sometimes by accident and apologizes sharply. Nayoung shyly says it’s fine.

She got the window seat when boarding the bus, standing by the stop patiently to be at the front of the line. Outside all she can see is the falling snow. The sky is foggy and the trees are gray, blurry shadows. The forecast was something like a blizzard across the north of the country, and the slow pace at which the bus travels makes her dig her fingernails into her palm. Nayoung opens her thermos of green tea and takes a single sip before turning the cap closed again.

  


“Since we all seem to be taking a break,” Minkyung had said, bleakly, “I have to say something too.” Something curdles in Nayoung’s stomach, an ugly feeling like the last of her pillars is crumbling to the ground.

“I want to study close to home next semester. It’s hard being so far away.”

“Okay,” Nayoung says, an automatic response.

It sounds like Minkyung has let out a breath she’s been holding in for a long time. “It’s okay with you?”

“Of course it is,” she says, to not drag this out longer than it has to be. “Of course it’s fine and you should do what you want. You’ve sacrificed a lot to be here,” she continues, the words coming into mind and leaving her mouth like a scripted speech.

“Nayoung,” Minkyung says, hugging her tightly and starting to cry.

 

When the bus arrives in her hometown, Nayoung has to face the fact that she hasn’t told Minkyung she was coming. The text messages between them are laid out on her phone in order, with days and weeks between them, a gap with few bridges.

**To: Kim Minkyung**

_Minkyung_

Nayoung waits because she doesn’t know what to say. Minkyung doesn’t reply within seconds, and there is no real shelter at the outdoor stop. ( _I’m at the bus stop can you pick me up_ , she types, but then erases.)

She can’t be this shameless. But she also has nowhere to go.

**To: Kwon Soonyoung**

_Everything is so hard._

 

**To: Kim Minkyung**

_I came to visit without telling you. Are you in town?_

_Nayoung are you for real_

_Would I joke about this Minkyung_

_Tell me where you are right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

  


Minkyung cut her hair two weeks ago. It’s shoulder length now and dyed in dark gray, matching her neutral clothes, the colors of winter. Nayoung thinks it suits her.

“Why are you here?” Minkyung asks, pulling her coat off. The house is tidy, small, warm, cozy. Nayoung has never been to Minkyung’s parents’ home. After all, it is a long drive.

“I... had something important to tell you.”

Despite the almost blatant insincerity in her voice, Nayoung is not lying. The day before she decided to buy the bus ticket, Kyungwon told her that she was planning to come back the next month. In turn, Eunwoo called and said the same thing.

“That you had to come all the way here and couldn’t tell me over the phone?”

Minkyung’s eyes are a beautiful dark brown, lashes long and rounded, sincerely tense and anticipating. It sounds like she is waiting for the weight of the words Nayoung will say next.

“Maybe they told you already,” Nayoung says, hesitant. “And if they did, then it probably wasn’t worth it, haha.” She can feel her voice cracking.

Minkyung surrounds her in an instant. “Oh no, how bad is it, Nayoung, it’s okay, Nayoung...”

Nayoung asks for a glass of water. Minkyung tells her, as she pours water into a plastic cup, that - “I haven’t talked to anyone but you, you know.” It tears Nayoung apart, thinking of those days in between, thinking of the nine different conversations she’s held onto and pushed and carried. Nayoung has never been alone, even when everyone left her. Maybe the ones that leave are the ones who are still longing the most.

“I know it’s the middle of your semester,” Nayoung says, “so I wouldn’t be hurt if you wanted to finish it off. I know you went home last and it’s not fair to ask more of you than the others.”

“Are they... is everyone coming back?”

“I hope so,” Nayoung answers. “Maybe it was too soon for me to say. They may have been empty words. Maybe I jumped the gun and it’s nothing...”

“You wouldn’t travel all the way here for nothing, would you?” Minkyung says those words again. In that, she sounds hopeful and yet incredibly full of sorrow.

 _You would be surprised,_ Nayoung wants to say. Still, she can take solace in that too.

“I missed you a damned lot,” Minkyung whispers. “Thank you for coming.”

Nayoung bursts into tears.

 

Minkyung tells Soonyoung the news in person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is either a university AU or badend!Pristin.


	7. hole #17 (wonwoo/yaebin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's not the _difference_ that matters but the _absolute._

“Missed,” Yaebin says with a laugh. The golf ball bounces across the green, hitting the backboards under the spinning of a wooden windmill.

“You can’t do better,” Wonwoo says.

“I know.”

The weather is dreary, clouds covering the sky. It threatens to rain, so Yaebin keeps jumping up and down to get Wonwoo to make his moves faster. “Hurry up! You’re so slow!” she shouts, and Wonwoo tries to tune it out and focus, but her voice is like slipping through cracks in an otherwise solid foundation. In the end his hand slips.

He steps across the walkway, long legs carrying him long lengths. He never brings it up, but Yaebin always does, and then he asks why she gets mad when she’s the one who mentions the height difference, and then she insists that it’s not the _difference_ that matters but the _absolute_.

“In.” The neon pink ball sits at the bottom of a hole carved into the fake grass, a pit made of PVC piping.

“It took like? A billion tries,” she says like he doesn’t know.

“We’re not keeping score,” he reminds her, but words always escape her ears.

“Okay, I’m really gonna do this.” Yaebin swings the golf club a little recklessly and Wonwoo inches backwards. “I’m going to - thwack!” She actually says the sound effect and it makes him groan, though mostly what’s concerning him is the trajectory of this hit.

The golf ball lands into the artificial pond next to the windmill. The impact makes a loud splash, but no one’s around to hear it. Wonwoo is laughing and then as if on cue, the rain starts to fall.

“Ah, we were almost done,” he says, lamenting dramatically and throwing up his hands. “Too bad. Time to go home.”

“Don’t you walk away, I have another,” Yaebin sings, spinning a bright green ball between her fingertips. The colors of these things have always hurt his eyes.

“Knew it was too good to be true.” Wonwoo holds his hands out to feel the rain on his open palm.

She drops the ball onto the ground and aims to hit it. “Take the raincoat out of my backpack.”

“Please don’t use your full strength this time.”

“I want to win!”

“Yaebin, I feel like you still have to get the ball out of the pond after this.”

After the equivalent of two billion tries by Yaebin’s metric, the green ball disappears from sight again. Yaebin peers over the fence, gauging the depth of the pond. She always climbs things without any regard for her safety. Her foot is perched on the first wooden bar and her knee leans on the next, hands gripping the coarse and soaking wet poles.

“I think it’s in too deep to go without getting drenched,” she says.

“Let’s go, then,” Wonwoo shouts, voice getting louder to fight the wind. Somehow he can tell that isn’t the end of it. Somehow includes her reluctance to come down.

“Won’t be able to walk back without standing in the rain anyway,” she yells.

“You brought the raincoat for a reason!”

At this point Yaebin is about to jump the fence for real and Wonwoo doesn’t think he can come up with a convincing deterrent before she does it anyway. He’s right, and Yaebin lands on the grass with a soft thud and a loud shriek.

“Don’t make me call an ambulance, Kang Yaebin.”

“I won’t!” Then she steps into the pond, after all this. Wonwoo has just realized it’s one of those fake ponds with a hard bottom and artificial blue coloring to boot.

“Yaebin, you’re such a-”

“I got it!” She raises her arm to the sky, neon pink clashing with the dullness of the sky. Yaebin’s hair has curled itself into strands that cover her face like octopus legs.

The course is empty, everyone having gone inside. Yaebin’s raincoat is packed tightly in the front pocket of her bag.

“You entire fool,” she says when she returns to a non-restricted area of the mini golf course. “The raincoat was right there. So was the umbrella.”

“You literally can’t speak,” he retorts, watching the water drip off her jeans. She shrugs and leads the way back to the main center, both golf balls in hand.

Walking past hole 18 and stifling a cough, Wonwoo can’t explain it either.


	8. something new (Junhui/Jieqiong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have a funny story to tell," Junhui says suddenly. "Zhou Jieqiong-"

“Buy me an ice cream,” Junhui says, marching into the hotel room. On the table he’s slammed a coupon for a single soft serve, worn from resting crumbled in his pocket.

“Why?” Jieqiong asks, still holding the door open. When she looks in his direction the sunlight from her open window nearly blinds her.

“So I can tell my friends Zhou Jieqiong bought me ice cream.” He smiles then, eyes crinkling. 

  
  


Jieqiong stares at the menu board on the back wall of the food truck.

“One vanilla soft serve,” she tells the cashier. The coupon comes out of her wallet, flattened but still wrinkled.

“Twist,” Junhui whispers.

She jerks her head in quick movements. “No,” she says to the cashier, whose finger lies waiting on the computer screen. “What do you want?” she asks Junhui.

“Strawberry vanilla twist,” he says.

“What do you want?”

“Jieqiong-”

“Tell her so I can pay for it, you silly goose. You don’t know how to lie.” 

Jieqiong can hear the elementary schoolers behind them laugh. Junhui says, “Banana split in a waffle bowl.” Then he takes a step back, as if Jieqiong will hit him with her new designer bag. It’s not worth it.

  
  


“Now you can say Zhou Jieqiong bought you ice cream.”

“Do you want the cherry?” Junhui asks, cheekily. Maraschino red stains his fingertips.

“Absolutely not.”

In the alleyway five meters from their stone bench is a crowd of stray cats and noisy seagulls. Junhui stares at it for too long.

“I’ll take the banana though,” she says, breaking it in two with a plastic spoon and dropping the piece into her half-empty cone.

“You don’t eat the cone?” Junhui asks, scandalized.

“It’s mushy!”

“You should have asked for it in a dish!”

“It’s part of the experience,” she says. “Drat, forgot to take photos.”

  
  


Somewhere along the harbor a large clock chimes seven times. “Well, good luck, Wen Junhui,” Jieqiong says, patting him on the head. Junhui moves like a sloth, so even when he makes to stand and pull his head away, she’s faster. “We need to get back so I can take photos on the terrace before sunset.”

“Are you older or what?” He sits back down on the bench, looking smaller than ever. “Don’t you say you are. I’ve had enough.” 

Jieqiong laughs, voice soothing. “You’ll need it with those friends of yours,” she says. 

“I’m not trying to impress them, you know,” he replies, and Jieqiong just nods, knowing all of it.

“You just need a story to tell.”

“But I’m not going to tell this one, anyway.” Junhui stands up.

“You’d rather tell them that you gave me a coupon and made me take you out,” she realizes. 

“Won’t it be boring if I tell them you took pity on me?” He grins.

“It’s never pity,” Jieqiong says, and Junhui resigns himself.

“It’s true though. It’s not like I said thank you,” he adds. “I’ll repay the favor eventually.”

  
  


Junhui steps into the elevator first. 

“I’ll take the stairs,” Jieqiong says, and waves brightly to him.

Junhui drops his shoulders and presses the open door button. “What does that make me? Taking the elevator to the second floor when you walk to the third!”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Jieqiong is already walking away. Junhui, to his discontent, follows. “You need to exercise- Ah,” she says, interrupting herself and stopping in front of the coffee bar. “Buy me a lemonade, Wen Junhui.”

“Here?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Who will be interested in your story about the time Wen Junhui bought you a lemonade?”

“Me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i like things just as they are](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=im1UUY8dQIk)


End file.
